The Mirror Image
by M. Tsukai
Summary: This is me. Not Jodie or Evan or even Lawndale. It's about me, the forgotten sister, Rachel.


Mirror Image: An 'In Lawndale' fanfiction

Brown skin-flawless, a rarity in this part of the state, hell almost non-existent in this part of town. Large brown eyes gazing emotionlessly at the mirror. She did have longer hair, that fell from her shoulders and rested on the small of her back.

She was not Jodie.

With that thought, she closed her compact and shut her locker. Grant and Custer were calling, and she was going to be late.

She quickly fell in loc step with Elsie Sloane, her closest friend.

"Bri asked me out, dahling," Elsie simpered as the words sunk into her head. Rachel shook her head and tried to figure out who she'd be taking to the dance.

Absolutely not Tad, she thought with a shudder. The boy had far too many issues, and his obsession about his sister was the largest of them. Of course there was always...no. They'd been friends since he'd told off the Griffin brats for making fun of her. He was charming, beautiful, chivalrous...

"Ms. Landon, if YOU'D like to COME back to the twenty-first CENTURY, perhaps you'd like to discuss your PROJECT for American HISTORY." Dr. Martino's eye turned a sickening shade of red.

"Uh...I'm thinking about pursuing the theory of the Bering Strait theory with regards to the 'Native' Americans."

"WONDERFUL idea, Ms. LANDON. You would do your SISTER proud. I assume IT will be a VISUAL presentation.

She nodded, fuming under the perfectly plastic smile.

"Ms. Sloane? Anyone TAKING residence in that SPACE where your BRAIN should BE?"

"Does it really matter, Anthony? My father could, hell, I could buy and sell this school. Is there really point to these ridiculous conversations betwixt the two of us?"

And the banter went on. Rachel would laugh, could laugh. If she didn't know the two were rather...close. A lot closer than a student and a teacher had any right to be. Her eyes left the fruitless scene and focused out the window where Adrian Lane was running around the track. A little lanky, not very cool, in fact weird in some circles. Like that meant anything, she reasoned as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There was no such determining factor here, at Lawndale High School, just her.

"I'm going for a walk." While her best friend flirted with the fifty-something teacher, she stood and left the room. It didn't matter. Li would never do anything about it, and the other teachers held a sense of awe and respect for the sixteen year old. For her own achievements, the Math Bowl, the Science Quest, and a host of other awards that found their way into the principal's office. For a million other things that Rachel refused to allow herself to think about. For the 'creative' accounting that saved Li's job last year, for bringing her best friend 'the bank' to the "glory of Laawndale High", for the state scholastic scores that posited her in a spot that even her sister never achieved. Number 1. And that even included that annoying brat Christopher Griffin, who was rumored to be a prodigy. She hadn't sought the spotlight; in fact the opposite. After Jodie's breakdown two years ago, Rachel purposely dropped her grades to a B average and intended to keep it there throughout high school. But the I.Q. test, and the resulting mess that sent her to Cedar Grove Prep for a semester had done alot. She had seen the future; pretentious brainy students with the social skills of a lemon and the personalities of rodents. It hadn't been hard, then. It was too easy to become perfect. For a price.

Which was what she was searching for as she turned right into the senior hall.

Daniel L. Frost, the "QB", finished his rendition of the latest game and leaned against the wall. A gaggle of well-built adoring cheerleaders hung on his every word. Life was good, and he was king, who the hell cared who Decartes was? Why the hell was he even wasting time at the backwater school that _insisted _on handing out grades? To him!!! Of all the nerve... Giving his trademark smirk, he leaned in closer to the head cheerleader, Courtney.

"You are so sexy, Daniel. Wanna go to my place after school?"

He amended his thoughts. Life was damn near perfect.

That didn't explain why Perfection was stalking towards him, a dark look of...what, he wasn't sure drawn over her perfect features. Rachel was pretty, for a black chick. The hair that kept going, legs too, the skin tight prep outfit she managed to make even more...amazing. He couldn't fathom why she wasn't dating him.

"Where is it, Daniel?"

He shrugged.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten the last time this sort of thing happened? Weren't you benched during the state finals?"

Wide-eyed fear greeted her.

"If I don't get what I came for by the end of the day, consider yourself..." she paused and smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth, "screwed."

"So I told Rachel, I said, 'Of course the Club wouldn't be nearly as cool if she wasn't the VP. I told her that _she_ should be president. And do you know what she said to me? She said she'd rather leave the shallow stuff to me. Can you believe it? Ugh, I swear I hate that...look, sorry. Gotta go... Jane's about to kick my..." Whatever Dolores Ruttheimer had intended to say was cut off as the art teacher grabbed the phone, pulled her machete from its place at the "Creation table" and lobotomized it.

"Anyone else? No? Well, kiddies, let's see what you did for your 'Arrested Citizens' stakeout project"

He ran. He ran because, in the midst of the principal creating a living hell, the fact his aunt was one of his teachers, the steady realization that the one girl he actually liked was little more than a manipulative bitch, he could at least have the wind at his back and music in his ear. He ran because Summer should have be sterilized, because Courtney was going the way of her mother, and Trent, the only one who actually got it , had ran off and gotten married and never came back. He ran because that was the only way he could get the hell out of Lawndale into some semblance of sanity. And of course, he could get laid.

Brian was his best friend, though the term would be better realized as 'arrogant misogynistic pothead who couldn't take a hint', and he being the big man on campus (in his own mind at least, muttered Adrian under his breath) invited everyone to his mansion for a pre-game shindig. He was hoping that Elsie would finally go "all the way", which Adrian could have told him would never happen because she was boning Dr. Martino and didn't like anyone who couldn't buy her something nice. Brian was a prick, but his 2nd step-mother, Tiffani BlumDecker-Taylor was drop dead gorgeous with everything that came with it, namely being dumber than a post and she actually was his first, Adrian's first. HE thought about it some more. Tiffany wasn't dumb; she just wasn't interested in anything other than her weight. She'd told him once, that he reminded her of a girl she knew when she was his age, and that she'd wished she was smarter and didn't get stuck here.

"How was your day, Rachel?"

"Fine. I'm thinking of buying a car."

"How much?" Michelle whipped her platinum card from her purse and dangled it in front of her younger daughter. Helen had told her, long after her daughters had left for college, that money had been the best motivation for obedience, for control.

"No thanks, Mom." Rachel pulled five stacks of cash from her own purse and placed them on the dining room table. "I think that's enough."

"Andrew??? Your daughter..." Michelle disengaged the cell from her ear and treated Rachel to a warm smile. "Your daughter is buying herself a new car."

"A Jag? Don't you think she's a little young? Of course, Andrew. Whatever you say, dear. "

Ignoring the 'teleconference', Rachel walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Evan would be home soon, this being the week of Thanksgiving. Michelle had sent him overseas to give him a decent education, but a spoiled eight-year old boy who cursed out chauffers for fun wasn't cut out to be by himself in England. After calling the Sloanes, her mother had decided to let her son go to boarding school at Cedar Groves Prep, which was definitely perfect for fanning the flames of her brother's superiority complex.

They got along, just as Jodie would when she walked through the doors in about...

"Hey, sis."

"Jodie!!! Mom said you wouldn't be around for a least three hours...she's calling Daddy."

"Yes, well, Simon was bothering Mack and..."

"So, you two are an item?"

Her older sister gave her a lopsided-grin.

"Depends. Where's Candace?"

At the sound of her name, the housekeeper emerged from the linen closet and crushed Jodie in a hug. The younger woman flushed with a sense of peace, and lapsed into rapid Creole, most of which Rachel didn't follow. Instead, she grabbed the baby basket, nodded to another uniformed woman, and thrust the child into...Sabina's (?) arms. Turning from her sister and her homecoming, she waltzed up the stairs and into her room.

"Else? Are you around?"

"Yeah, you know. Anthony gave me..." she dropped her voice to a whisper, "detention"

"That was funny the first time, but doesn't this whole thing get old after awhile?"

There was silence at the other end of the line

"Look, he's cool and I'm cool. Don't screw this up for me." The other end crackled with anticipation. Or rage. Rachel wasn't sure, and wasn't sure if she cared, anyway.

"Whatever, where's Tom-O? Getting his arse into trouble?"

"Sort of. After he broke up with that brainy chick, I've heard absolutely nothing from him."

"Maybe he and Jane..."

"Maybe you should shut the hell up. She's not our kind."

"Neither am I."

"But you live here. Next door, in fact..."

"Tis true..."

"All I'm saying is that he needs to marry someone with cash. Or something equally useful."

"Right."

"Right."

"So, what's Melody making for y'all this year?"

"You know, the fried turkey you guys got last year was much better. Maybe we can..."

"This is turning into a tradition, and I'm not sure I like it."

"Greedy..."

"Don't finish that. Look, Jodie's being maternal, so I'll talk to you later."

Elsie replaced the phone in its holder and rolled her eyes. Best friends. A cheap word for someone who is as pathetic as you are. Tom would be home. That was the only reason Rachel ever bothered actually calling. Not that they weren't close. They were. It was just...Tom. It always had been about him. He was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong. Until Jane. And Daria, who she actually liked. To be honest, both girls were cool. And completely at ease in the house and with her family. They just didn't work out, and Father, being the patriarchal dictator he was, decreed that everyone but stuck up pompous jerks was off-limits to little Elisabeth Anne. Tom practically screwed the help, and she was paying for it. Or was, until Rachel convinced her to try 'slumming it' at a public high school. Dr. Martino had been wonderful. She'd liked him the moment she stepped into the class. How the entire class cowered under the very words he spoke. How he almost made her frightened. How he looked her in the eye after keeping her after class the third day of her 'experiment' and told her exactly what he wanted her to do. She felt completely...dominated. And it felt good. Maybe that bitch Ruttheimer would benefit from some good-natured ribbing. The faux English accent wasn't cool, but it was something she knew no one would whine about. At least, not to her face.

"Dahling, is Dolores home?"

"Oh my gosh, Elsie. It's so cool that you're calling me. I mean, you're the CEO of the Club. Even Rachel..."

"Dahling, Rachel is the queen and we are all her pets. You'd better get used to it. So, how's Samuel? Have you two become a couple?"

"No way. I'm aiming high, I want Danny F. That is, if she's done with him?"

"Rachel and Danny? Dear girl, that's a silly silly rumor." Elsie took a deep breath and added steel to her voice. "Don't let a little matter like this ruin your popularity. They are not a couple, but I'm sure Courtney would rip you a new one if you even tried to take him..."

"Courtney the sleaze? She doesn't matter...Danny will be going with me. Thanks, Elsie. Talking to you is like, hearing from the best."

"Of course."

Another fuse lit. Monday was going to be very interesting. Elsie idly wondered if she should wear earrings to the dance.

Well, this is my first attempt at Daria fanfiction. Daria will be in this series, as will Jane and some other familiar persons. I wanted Rachel to be a little different from Jodie without making her the antithesis of her sister. Stay tuned for the next chapter which I'll finish sometime next week.


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